


The Mountain Dew Power Plant

by dramady, edonyx



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> A good dealer can be thanked for a LOT. Awesome.</p><p><b>Authors' Notes:</b> Find our OF <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Madeleine+Delaney&x=0&y=0">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mountain Dew Power Plant

"...so," Tim continues, leaning back on the couch, all six-foot five inches of him, topped with long curly brown hair. "I think that people think that beyond being American, we have to make the world better by making it like _us_. You know? What do you think of that? I'm talking, like, going to Africa and trying to introduce our version of civility, when these people have lived the way they have for thousands of years. Holy shit, I'm thirsty. You want a beer?"

"I _totally_ want a beer, man," Patrick, not as tall, hair not as long. But he has dimples! That counts for something as he answers, blinking at Tim with dark eyes from where he's slouched on the couch, knees spread. They're both _halla_ high and Tim always gets gets really zen-political and philosophical when he's high and Patrick just ... doesn't get it. Most of the time he's okay with that. Like right now. "And some Fritos? I'd freaking kill for some Fritos, man."

"Okay. No. I'm totally the Incognito Frito Burrito. Just so you know." Tim gets to his feet and shuffles into the kitchen to get a pair of beers and some fucking _Fritos_. "Oh dude, I have _Mars bars._ And they're frozen. Say yes and I'm yours forever." He pauses, managing to balance two beers, a bag of Fritos and a four-pack of frozen chocolate in one hand, the other scratching his hair. "You realize that like, ninety percent of children have never tasted chocolate. That is a _disgusting_ fact."

Which, for the record, Tim is full of. And he shares them. Patrick is baffled by this personality trait just like he's impressed with Tim's breadth of hand to carry all that. He takes a beer and the corn chips. The candy bars can wait; the chips cannot. They are ripped open and a huge handful stuffed into Patrick's mouth. He chews noisily as he twists open the beer. "I think I saw a dead raccoon driving over here, man."

"You probably did. They come off the trails out here, I see 'em when I bike." There's a short debate between opening the chocolate or having Fritos, and while he decides, Tim cranks open his beer and flicks the cap at Patrick. "We're zen, though. They don't get rabid on me and I don't run them over. It's cool like that. Hey, Patrick? _Chew._ With your mouth _shut._" To which, Tim needs to demonstrate, and there's his decision. He's eating corn chips, hip to hip with Patrick.

What? Patrick's mouth falls open for a minute as he watches. Was he chewing with his mouth open? He can't remember and he finds he doesn't care. He goes back to chewing, then washing it down with lovely nectar that is beer. "I'm totally blazed right now, man. It's ... _awesome_."

"I _told_ you I was getting the good stuff this time. You had it last time we got together, and... hey, now that you're not chewing anymore, would it be cool if I kissed you?" This easy friendship that had turned into something closer, not long ago. It's new enough that even when he's high, he wants to do things the right way. Besides, when all of Tim's nerves are standing on end, it's _gotta_ feel good to kiss.

Patrick holds up a finger - wait! - and he drinks half of his beer. A palate cleanser as it were. He swishes the beer around in his mouth and then swallows it down. Then he nods. Kiss away! Kissing? It's awesome too. Kick _ass_ awesome when it leads to shared nudity.

"Right on," Tim breathes, grinning, and leans in to catch the side of Patrick's face in a palm. "Amazing," he promises, nipping Patrick's lower lip with his teeth before breathing a laugh into his mouth. Tim dampens his lips and closes his eyes, and when he licks into Patrick's mouth, it feels like an electric circuit, closed.

Sex is ... really cool. This is Patrick's sole judgment. It's probably the best thing, pretty much ever. Even over getting high and hanging out. Right now, all Patrick has to do is lay there and kiss back and it's pretty hard for him to fuck that up, another win, right? Tim's mouth tastes like Fritos and beer, and under all that, Tim. Which is awesome.

They've gotten high a _lot_. It was the one thing they'd had in common when they'd met, through a mutual friend. Their dealer, incidentally, and Tim needs to thank him for that. Later. Another time. When he has to go pick up again. But for now, Patrick's mouth is his priority, and he pushes Patrick back a little further so he can fit a leg between Patrick's.

Woah, that's kind of awesome too. Just like it had been when Patrick found out that Tim was gay. Tim doesn't like _look_ gay, right? He looks like a dude's dude. But he's really good at being gay, Patrick's found. It's seriously stellar. As is the hard-on that's pressing against Tim's leg. Part of why Patrick loves weed, right? Doesn't mess with the equipment.

The feel of Patrick's dick makes Tim smile into the kiss, and it even _feels_ predatory. Tim feels what Patrick has, and he takes advantage of it, bringing a hand up to run through Patrick's hair, catching a handful at the back to pull. It gives him the chance to bite kisses down the side of Patrick's neck, his other hand palming around Patrick's hip to pull him up. They can keep their clothes on, right? They're both adults, even though Patrick makes Tim feel a _hell_ of a lot younger than he really is. Forty-two, for the record, and Tim looks a good ten years younger than that. Subtract another ten and he's right around where Patrick makes him feel. "I actually for real feel like I'm fizzing," Tim murmurs just below Patrick's ear. "Just thought you should know."

"Like a soda?" Patrick laughs into Tim's mouth. "Dude," he chortled, still close, but _cracking up_. "Are you gonna fucking fizz over?" Okay, that's the most hilarious thing _ever_ because it's referring to his _dick_ and _coming_ and that's _hilarious_. He slumps against Tim's shoulder as he laughs. Even as he's thinking of Tim's dick, which is _awesome_.

Tim's not quite quick enough right now to pick up on that joke, but he laughs anyway, shaking his head. Nope, no fizzing over here, at least not yet. "You're distracting me from awesome makeout, man." He bites Patrick's collarbone, shifting his weight again on Patrick's body. "You have any idea how your mouth feels?" Soft and plush, hiding sharp teeth and a tongue that probably knows how to do _things_. The thought makes Tim shiver, and _now_ he gets what Patrick meant by fizzing over, and of course, Tim laughs. And laughs, and laughs. And tells Patrick, "I'm not getting off in my pants, by the way. Nice try."

"Dude, my stomach, man. It's freaking _killing_ me," Patrick groan-laughs. Laughing? _Awesome_. "Hooo." He held his stomach, still grinning ear to ear. "Shit. I love soda, though, man." In case all the empty Mountain Dew cans strewn around his place aren't evidence enough. "I should suck your dick, if it's like soda, man."

"I thought you loved beer! Traitor!" By fisting both of his hands in Patrick's shirt, Tim pulls them around so Patrick's on top of him. "I think you should do whatever the fuck you want, Patrick, seriously. I feel like I could run a fuckin' flag up on my dick. See?" Not see, but feel, as Tim lifts his hips to press them against Patrick. Every time he does this - all three times, actually - the heat that skates through him is both shivery and blurry, and Tim flashes a grin at Patrick.

"Your dick is a flag pole," Patrick announces. "It's long enough to be a flag pole. We should totally, I dunno, test that on the fourth, man. Get a freakin' flag and put it on your dick and take a picture of it. God bless America, man." Patrick's chortling again, even as he was tugging at Tim's fly. "Salute to the flag, dude."

Patrick makes Tim _laugh_, even though he should really be paying attention to what Patrick's doing to him. Not that he's _not_ paying attention, but when Patrick talks, he's so _funny_. "I think you've got too much to think about," Tim grins, lifting his hips to give Patrick a hand, pushing his shorts down along with his jeans, and he laughs again when his cock springs free of the fabric. "Boing! See? It's happy to see you."

"Hello, Mr. Dick! I'm glad to see you, too." Patrick grins, dimpled and all. He wraps his hand around the base, a good seven inches above that. Yeah, boy. Gotta love a monster cock. "I got the munchies and the best meat there is is right here, man." He gives Tim a lewd wink and bends down, starting to run his tongue along the length of Tim's cock.

"Fuckin' terrible," Tim answers, but it comes out closer to a sigh, smiled and shivery. The sight of the flat of Patrick's tongue on his skin makes him feel less silly and more _hot_, and he reaches down to palm against the back of Patrick's head. Even though it's Patrick that's doing this to Tim, Tim has the sudden image of what Patrick's cock would feel like in _his_ mouth, how the skin would taste, how hard it'd be, and his head falls back against the sofa. "Bed's plenty big if you want to stay," he offers, digging his heels in to keep his hips right where they are.

Sleeping over? Woah. Patrick blinks owlishly. That's kind of serious, isn't it? But he hates driving late at night when he's stoned, so this is a win. He nods and goes back to sucking dick. When he's high, it feels like all the tastebuds on his tongue are more sensitive. It's pretty rad.

There's the bed, or if Patrick's not entirely cool with that idea, there's the couch, too. Tim would prefer the bed, but he's not going to force Patrick into sticking around between the sheets with him if he's not down with that. It's still kind of new, after all. "That's..." It's a sentence that Tim doesn't know how to finish, not when he lifts his head to peek blearily down at Patrick, and the way his own cock slips back and forth through the soft pout of his lips.

There's no freaking way Patrick can deep throat Tim's whole dick. That's nuts. So he strokes over what he can't suck on and it's pretty awesome. Patrick actually likes to suck dick he's found, and so he's going to town on it, liking the bite of the precome that hits the back of his throat. Stellar, man.

Patrick can tell by the way Tim breathes that it's just right, that it's just what he wants, and when Tim comes, it's with a hand on the back of Patrick's neck and the other on his shoulder, not guiding him, but just feeling where and how Patrick moves. Tim pants shallow and open-mouthed, finally saying something that sounds like Patrick's name to get his attention.

And he's still licking swollen lips when he looks up. Patrick grins at the blissed out look on Tim's face. "Awesome," he says, more to himself than to Tim. Job well done, right? "'sup, man?"

"Get up here so I can get you off," Tim husks, sliding his hands so they're both on Patrick's shoulders, pulling him up against Tim so Tim can all but smash their mouths together. He can taste his come on Patrick's tongue and he doesn't care, licking at that mouth as his hands fumble clumsily at Patrick's fly.

They nearly tumble onto the floor which is funny as hell, really. But Patrick's board shorts and boxers end up ... somewhere ... and then Patrick's naked too (awesome) and hard, rutting against Tim's chest. "Are you gonna suck me off, Tim? Cuz," he nearly whines. "That sounds fucking amazing."

For a moment, Tim just jerks Patrick off against his chest, his own face flushed, a crooked Cheshire grin on his face. "You want me to go down on you? You want my mouth on your dick?" There's a pause where Tim lets Patrick think about it, and then he adds, "So you can come in my mouth, is that what you want?" His other hand wraps around the back of Patrick's neck, kissing down the side of it, feeling the way Patrick's pulse pounds. It matches the throb of his cock, and that's fucking _sexy._

"Yeah, man. That's ... I want that, yeah," Patrick says and he just has to knee-walk up a little further and he can point his dick at Tim's awesome mouth. At the first feel of the hot wet, he groans, loud. "Oh, shit," he says, watching. "Oh, shit, Tim, dude you have ... you have this fucking amazing mouth."

One arm goes behind Tim's head to keep the angle right, but the other fans out at the small of Patrick's back to urge him forward, the rumbled sound around Patrick giving him permission to fuck Tim's mouth. God. When Patrick's where he needs to be, Tim compares his brief fantasy to the reality of it, and finds that the reality is so much _hotter_ than he'd imagined. His hand slides down, cupping one of Patrick's asscheeks for a moment, squeezing, then his fingertips move inward so he can rub at the tight ring of muscle. Below, out of both of their lines of sight, Tim's cock twitches.

His head back, his eyes closed, Patrick rocks his hips and just concentrates on how awesome this feels. One hand strays, moving to where he can feel his dick and Tim's mouth and _that's_ stellar and the tease to his ass? Wicked. "Dude, homosexuality is freaking _fantastic_, man. Fuck."

Of all the things to say in the middle of a beej, and Tim snorks a laugh. Oh fuck yeah, he agrees, being gay is _wholly_ underrated. But he looks up at Patrick, at the line of his body, lean and muscled, the expression on his face hidden in the way his head's thrown back. But Tim's got an active imagination, and he can picture the look on Patrick's face just fine. For now. Tim groans, using more pressure with his fingers, pushing nearly to the point of _in_, but stopping short when he pulls back to catch a breath, a silvery line of saliva connecting his lower lip with the tip of Patrick's dick.

He stopped? Why did he _stop_?! Patrick looks down at Tim, chin to his chest, brows drawn together in a needy frown. His cock bobs against Tim's lower lip. "Why ... why'd you stop?"

"Gotta breathe," Tim answers, flicking his tongue against the head of Patrick's cock. "Don't worry." That's the last thing that comes out of Tim's mouth before Patrick's cock goes back _into_ Tim's mouth, and even now, stoned and turned on again, he's careful when he presses at Patrick's ass, just edging the tip of his middle finger into him, out, and in again, giving it a wiggle to remind Patrick that he's there, too.

As if Patrick could forget, right? No way. He finds himself rocking back and forth to get both sensations, the inny and the outie. "Jeez," he gasps, not sure what to do with his hands, so he puts his arms over his head, eyes closing again. "Oh, jeez, you - oh jeez."

Even Patrick's breathy voice helps to work in Tim's rebounding favour, and he _sucks_ Patrick's cock, the sound he makes vibrating around Patrick when he tastes salt and skin, and feels the way Patrick's body tightens and lets go around his fingertip. No more than that, just barely to the base of Tim's fingernail, no further without lube and a better position. The muscles in Tim's stomach tighten as he tries to bob his head to match the rock of Patrick's hips. Oh jeez, indeed; even as innocent as it sounds, it's hot as _fuck._

So, the first time they did this, right? Totally kind of a comedy of errors. They'd bashed heads once and then kind of collided once, too, on their way to kiss: that hurt. But when they'd gotten it right, they had _totally gotten it right_ and Patrick had been sprawled out on Tim's floor, naked, with come on his chest, wearing only a smile. Fantastic. This, their third time and he's fucking Tim's mouth like a champ. Awesome.

After a couple of minutes, though, Tim pulls back to look up at Patrick with dark eyes, his own mouth swollen with friction. "Is it totally moving too fast if I say I'm dying to fuck you?"

"Uh, no?" Patrick blinks back at him, all dark-eyed and flushed. "Having your dick in my ass would be a totally awe-inspiring experience, I think. If," and he gestures, a finger in the air at the breadth of the thought. "If it doesn't, you know, split me open."

"That's the point," Tim grins, pushing Patrick off of him so he can get to his feet and yank Patrick toward the bedroom. The bedroom is the place to be, really, when lube and condoms are _right there_ if they need them. Which they will, if Tim has his way. Tim's used to getting his way. "Pillow under your hips. Lie on your back. Heels on the bed. I'm gonna make you feel really fuckin' good."

Woah, so that's specific. But Patrick does that and he puts his arms under his head and gives Tim a grin. His cock isn't standing straight up, but hard against his belly. Hi. He wiggles his toes. "Nice bed, man. Big."

"And comfortable." Tim leans down to nip the inside of Patrick's thigh before getting the lube and spreading it on his fingers. "Here." One hand sits on Patrick's knee to hold it back while the other presses down between Patrick's asscheeks to twist in as slow as he'd teased, before. "If you feel like you've gotta jerk off, do it. I'm totally okay with watching that." Tim's hard again, too, his cock heavy and flushed between his legs.

Tim's dick deserves its own area code okay? Tim's a big dude and his cock is commensurate with his height. The first time they met, Patrick totally stared, he'll admit that. Then he'd wondered what it would be like to climb him like a tree. You know, usual thoughts. At the moment, thought, Patrick's not thinking about that. He's thinking about Tim's fingers in his ass. "Fuck," he whispers. It doesn't hurt. Feels good, actually. Win.

Not to say that Patrick's dick is small! Tim leans down and licks it as he _pushes_ with his fingers, knuckles firm against his body. Patrick's cock is thick and just right for his body, and when Tim straightens, it's with a grin. He scissors his fingers apart, rocking his wrist at the same time, eyes flicking back and forth between Patrick's face and his cock to gauge both reactions as they happen. "Fuckin' hot," he answers, just as quiet, just as papery, and presses his thumb to the hard cord behind Patrick's balls.

Patrick's a slut when he's high; he'll admit that. He holds his legs to his chest and bears down on the invasion and his cock jerks against Tim's tongue. He even tugs and flicks at his own nipples and makes pretty good porn-noises without even trying. "Rock on," he groans, eyes slitted and dark. "You have freaking amazing hands."

"You want my cock?" Tim grins, still breathless, curling his fingers up inside Patrick, watching - and hearing - the show that Patrick's giving him. "My hands like you, man. So does the rest of me." He tilts his hips forward, skimming the head of his cock against Patrick's ass cheek, and the angle lets him nudge Patrick's hand out of the way so he can pull one of Patrick's nipples in his teeth. "And dude, your stamina fuckin' embarrasses me. I couldn't hold out this long." There's admiration there, tainted with desire and dark, hot want.

"Pot," Patrick explains. It's like Viagra or something. It makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges, making them that vital a bit duller. "I bet, though," he says, licking around lips that are dry, "that when you stick me, I'll jizz all over myself."

"Does the opposite to me. Makes me into a fuckin' hamster." Tim gusts a laugh, looking around on the bed for where he'd dropped the condom, and when he finds it, he nods to it. "Wanna put it on me so I don't have to stop? I'm _hoping_ when I get it in you you're going to fuckin' come on yourself. That's the point, and it'll be fuckin' _hot._"

It takes a good bit of concentration for Patrick to get the wrapper open, but then he does, pulling the latex out triumphantly. Then it's to the process of rolling it on. "X-X large, huh, stud?" He laughs. "Awesome." Once the condom's on, he strokes over it. For a moment, he's pretty sure his ass isn't big enough. But, he reminds himself, the body is a wondrous thing. "Stick me, stud."

It makes Tim laugh again. "Man, stop calling me stud, otherwise I'm gonna break out the porno music." When he finally does push into Patrick, he does it slowly, carefully, letting Patrick's body get used to the size of Tim's cock in him, and he uses one hand to brace the base of his cock and the other to stroke Patrick's, distracting him from what might be uncomfortable. "Oh my fuck, you're so tight. Holy shit, so tight."

"I've - never - had a - ugh - tree - up my ass - before," Patrick manages, mouth mushy as he stares up at Tim. It occurs to him to glance down and then he can _see_ Tim's dick disappearing. And there's still like a foot to go. "Oh, fuck, yeah," he blurts out when Tim's cock hits his prostate. "Oh - fuck!" He slaps his hands against Tim's ass cheeks. "Oh, fuck. Sodomy. Sodomy _rocks_."

_Patrick_ rocks, the end. By the time Tim's seated all the way in Patrick's body, Tim feels flushed and tight again, and he lunges forward to kiss Patrick, one hand on his shoulder to pull him down onto his cock, the other slid up into Patrick's hair to cradle the back of his head. The slap earns a snap, Tim's balls jostling against Patrick's ass, and he grunts out a sound into Patrick's mouth. Patrick liked that? Well, Tim'll do it again.

Okay, so maybe Patrick squealed a little when Tim did that, pleasure and pain mingling in a way that made the hair on his arms stand up. "Yeah," he gasped, holding tight to Tim's shoulders. "Yeah. Feels good. Yeah. Do that again. Hard like that."

"Greedy for it," Tim chides, moving them both around so Patrick's further back on the bed and Tim can kneel, holding Patrick's knees over his arms. "Hold on, 'cause you're gonna get it." Tim's expression contracts into something tight when he moves, when he _fucks_ Patrick, hard and quick and steady, and feeling the tight, velvety heat of Patrick around him has Tim groaning, low and choked-off. "Good," he mutters, bending Patrick back on himself so Tim can kiss his neck. "Good, good, _good_, good-"

Wow, okay, so the bed is squeaking loudly, Patrick is pretty sure he's squeaking loudly, too. He gets a hand around his dick and lets Tim fuck him through it. Sure, his feet might have been flopping in the air, but did Patrick care? Nope. He's much more engaged in how he's a big old mass of nerve endings and good stuff. Woo. Epic win.

Call Tim a romantic - if he can be at all romantic when he's fucking Patrick into the mattress - but he's more engrossed in kissing Patrick, in tasting those little squeaky sounds that he makes. When Patrick's serious, he's handsome, Tim'll totally admit that. But when he smiles, or when he's like _this_ (this, that Tim's still discovering, one back-and-forth motion of his hips at a time), he's _gorgeous_, and that's sort of an odd thought to have about someone when they've just barely tread past the boundaries of friendship. But Tim can feel the way Patrick's hand moves as Tim himself does, and he finds himself asking, "Does it feel good? Do you like when I'm... when I'm like this?" When he's hip to hip with Patrick, Tim pushes just a little more, drawing his hips back slower, then back in, teasing.

"Oh, Jeez, I'm choking on it," Patrick answered with something like wonder. He's bowed off the bed, his cock leaking copiously over his fist. "I think this makes me a cock-whore. A Tim-cock-whore, right? Oh, _shit!_!" His orgasm is a total surprise, slamming into him like a brick wall and arching him off the bed with sharp pleasure.

"I'm- _unh!-_ okay with that," Tiim gasps, and god, he's fucking tempted to see if he can duck his head far enough to lick the come from Patrick's skin. The rhythmic clench of Patrick around him has Tim _so_ tempted just to keep going until he comes again, too, but while he might call Patrick greedy, it's only as a tease, and Tim's not about to push him too far.

Each thrust after that feels like almost too much and not enough at the same time. Wave after wave of pleasure rock through Patrick, taking his high with it, but he's okay with that, because the high is replaced with awesome lassitude, though he knows Tim's cock his still huge and hard and in him. "You need to come, dude," he pants. "You ... why aren't you coming in me?"

"Didn't want to-" Oh hell, when Patrick says that, it doesn't matter what Tim did or didn't want to do. Because now he _really_ wants to come in Patrick, and almost too late, he realizes that his words sound like he doesn't want to come in Patrick. Which is _entirely_ not the case, okay? "Didn't know how sensitive you'd be," he tries instead, rolling his hips into Patrick again. "Oh fuck, seriously, you make me feel like-" His chin ducks down to his chest, where there's a rumbled sound that comes out. "Like I'm fuckin' sixteen."

Patrick's body is trying to close down and Tim's cock is monstrous. But he rubs over his flagging cock and watches Tim and how hot he looks when he's about to come. "I hated being sixteen, man. This is way better." Getting high, fucking a hot dude, hanging out. Wicked.

"You mm- make me wanna come like'm sixteen," Tim mutters, lashes lowered and shoulders squared and tense. "Like..." Tim's eyes close all the way, and his expression goes slack with pleasure. "Like right now." He hitches a breath, hips stuttering against Patrick, cock jerking inside him. "Shit," he breathes, carefully pulling his hips back. "Wow."

"Woah." That was cool. For a long time, Patrick watches Tim, who's got this totally awesome face, right? It shows kind of everything, which is awesome. Patrick has found that he really _likes_ Tim. Like like-likes him. It's cool and it's cool to just lie there together and hang out, naked and shit. It's cooler still to roll to his side and kind of rest his cheek against Tim's chest, too. That's cool.

Tim's entirely out of breath by now, and he skins the condom off and knots it, giving it a half-hearted lob toward his little en-suite bathroom. "I'm entirely not stoned at all anymore. How 'bout you?" His arms come up around Patrick, around his ribs and around his shoulders, and there's always something pretty amazing about skin to skin loafing around. His nose gets tucked into Patrick's hair, and Tim realizes how comfortable he is right this second, with Patrick.

"Nope." Patrick's not high. But he's comfortable and dozy now and Tim's warm and cozy.

That totally rhymes. Awesome. Patrick snickers against Tim's shoulder. "Your bed rocks, man," he notes a minute later. "Totally soft and stuff." He can, upon further thought, totally go for a snooze. "Mind if I zonk out here?"

"That's why I asked," Tim blurs, keeping Patrick up close to him. A kiss is bonked into Patrick's hair, and then Tim's lying back against the pillow to close his eyes, too. "I'm pretty deep in like with you, you know."

"Yeah? Wicked," Patrick answers, just as bleary. Then all he does is pretty much slump right against Tim and fall asleep just like that. Later, when he wakes up, between bites of pizza, he'll tell Tim that he pretty much likes him too.

And when the morning comes, Tim takes Patrick out for breakfast before dropping him off at his place, extracting a promise that they're going to get together again, play some 360, smoke off the bong, and, well, be guys together. Then Tim gets a kiss from Patrick, hot and open and still tasting of eggs and coffee on both of their behalves, promising Patrick a multitude of other things that they'll do. He's _really_ got to thank his dealer for this.


End file.
